Lost Princess
by The Ruff Pusher
Summary: She was groomed to be his best servant. He did not expect her to become something more. mature/pwp


**Note: This story is a work of fiction. It has many content of adult nature. If you do not want to read such content, please close your browser window or press the convenient back button.**

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 _In another time, his will would be chained to an Ancient Evil, until he would become nothing more than a twisted parody of himself.  
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 _Here he is but a man._

It had been an impulse. He'd freely admit it was just him taking revenge on Hoshido for shaming his country to no end. He'd wanted to assassinate the enemy's king, bring an end to the war on favorable terms, then ransom the child. But when circumstances had made that impossible, he had no choice but to secretly bring the child in to raise, after publicly announcing her death.

She'd grown up under his house, groomed to be his most loyal servant: a tactician of unparalleled skill with sword and tome, with intimate knowledge of the byzantine intricacies of the Nohrian court. Had she been his daughter, he would have been most proud of how far she'd gone. But due to her status, she did not receive as much of his love as his trueborn children. When the unthinkable would come, and his son would rise to the throne, then he would be assured that he would have an adviser utterly loyal and indispensable to him. Until then, Corrin would be as a treasure to be jealously guarded and honed to perfection.

Nowadays, as his youngest, Elise, reached the peak of her maturity, it had gotten difficult for him to ignore the fact that the Hoshidan child had bloomed into a formidable beauty, envied throughout the court. Her dress, personally hand-picked to be the most fashionable, were wrapped around a tall, slender body, with wide, ripe hips and a slim waist; her statuesque legs drew attention when she sashayed through the daily audiences, mesmerizing friend and enemy alike. And her face had an allure to rival the most beautiful-framed by primly coiffed argent hair, it was a face that could both strike fear and inspire admiration at the same time.

His eyes had not turned to her for much of her life-now she was as a pluckable fruit dangling tantalizingly in front of him, arousing passions no whore jockeying for his favor had ever done. He almost cursed her many times for being a foul temptress sent to bring about Nohr's downfall through enslaving the King, an irrational thought flying in the fact of the woman's kidnapping as a mere child.

Today, for example, his eyes followed her form greedily while he sat back on the throne, watching her deal with a league of troublesome barons who wished to raise their taxes independent of the kingdom. Though he could not hear her speak, he could well imagine the wit, intimidation and charm she brought forth masterfully to rein them in. And no doubt they, like him, would later dream of the encounter with the Lady Corrin, imagine her ripe, fresh body laid bare before them, ready for them to take, to conquer...

The court was adjourned; true night had fallen on Nohr. Garon dismissed the bothersome retainers who wished to drag him off for dinner. No, he would not be eating tonight. At least, he would not be eating food. He stalked through the corridors, following the expected pathway to his servant's chambers; where she would always go after Court, as he'd trained her to do. Rounding a corner, he spotted her silver hair disappearing behind a door before it closed.

He was seized by indecision: though he had not considered her his child, he had effectively made her his in all but name. That had been the only thing stopping him from claiming the girl when she'd but newly flowered a long time ago-the thought had repulsed him, as if she had been Camilla, or Elise. But now he could not ignore her charms, her guile. She was a woman fully grown, a weapon utterly loyal to him. _And a toy I can do with as I please_ , he thought, with a shiver of lust running up his spine. Like a wolf emboldened, he trotted to another room, using it to access the secret passageway leading to hers. Oh yes, he'd be feasting tonight.

When he sprinted through the uncovered wall, he saw her freeze, like a deer upon seeing the hunter. He took a moment to drink her in: she had been just about to undress, leaving her in her smallclothes consisting only of an thinly transparent negligee and her panties. He reveled in sweaty pale skin revealed in the candlelight and the smoothness of her bared midriff.

"K-King Garon-" she stammered, her expression turning from wary to bright-red embarrassment. But he did not meet her eyes-his gaze was fixed entirely on her luscious body, uncovered to him for the first time in quite a while. Her feeble cries and protests were miles away as he grabbed her waist and pulled her to him. He pinned her lithe arms with his, holding her close and immobile as he had his way.

He breathed in her scent: so raw and sensual. The mix of sweat and perfume sent a electric thrill into his brain, inflaming his passions further. He cupped a teat in his hand, so plump and perfect, folding and mashing easily with every squeeze of his fingers. His other hand explored the rest of her body, rubbing over the smooth swell of her pale abdomen, then he went down to caress the insides of her thighs. Then his palm went up and over her entrance, still covered by the alluring black lace.

"M-my lord, what-"

"Whores have no need of words," he scolded roughly, forcing her chin to the side so he could devour her lips. She resisted, briefly, but his insistent tongue breached her smaller, weaker lips and rammed straight inside her mouth, ravaging and tasting as he pleased. He tasted the remnants of wine mixed with her delectable saliva, forming a cocktail sweet as any nectar. He felt her breath hot and rapid against him as she struggled to breathe, and he deigned to give her a little space-by capturing her tongue and dragging it out through her open mouth. She groaned in protest, her cheeks aflame as she tried to regain her breathing. He delighted in the sight of her, open-mouthed, her tongue at his mercy. He sealed his dominance when he ended her brief respite by clamping his lips on hers again while keeping her tongue in his, suckling on the end of her tongue like a candy, before letting it go. The action sent drool streaming from the corners of her mouth, which he eagerly lapped up.

Of course, he hadn't been idle with his hands in the meantime. They'd spread her legs apart, just enough for him to have access to her entrance, which he exploited now, his massive hand diving under the last protection of her undergarment to stroke and pump over her vulva. She beat her hands feebly against his, though the action only caused her fist to strike his waist, which only served to awakened his cock more fully. He rubbed it against her skin through the fabric of his cloak, and the hot feel of it against her made her body tense up in realization.

Garon had had many women, and none of them could say they'd left the experience with only whatever favor they'd managed to buy. Whoever they were, they would forever recall his masterful techniques that brought them to ecstasy, that put them roughly in their place as bitches who only needed his cock. Such techniques were infallible, and now even his most treasured servant melted like a candle as his fingers worked on her pussy. Her legs trembled, her knees growing weak, she twisted her hips this way and that, trying to escape from his grasp; she moaned into his mouth, unable to form words with his tongue still occupying hers. As he tasted the back of her throat she felt his wetness bloom and gather like a puddle on her undergarments, which he ripped away to reveal the slick nectar dripping from her nethers.

"What's this? You're getting off on this? You're a woman after all, Corrin. Under that cold, strict facade you're a woman, and a bitch further beneath." She cried in her throat in protest, though his renewed actions on her pussy chained her to the undeniable pleasure. "You act selfishly in front of your king. We must be pleased, as well." He quickly undid his trousers, laying bare his hot, turgid cock against her thigh. Her eyes widened. Sliding his bulbous head against the smooth, pale skin of her thigh sent shocks through his spine. Impatiently, he dipped his stiff member right against her moist entrance and began to slide his length back and forth against her aroused sex. His cock was like a monster bulging out from her crotch; and after releasing her mouth, he watched her stare at it, mesmerized, as he began to seek his own release. He knew he was hitting her buttons too, as she made sweet sounds when the crook of his cock flicked her clit with every stroke.

He was satisfied to see her reaction: her brows knitting together, her mouth puffing out air desperately, great whining sounds coming from her throat, as she tried to come to terms with the sensations. "Give in," he commanded. "No need for pride. You're no longer at Court, Corrin. You're in this room, and you are a hungry bitch, nothing more. Surrender to the pleasure." Then he isolated a spot on her beautiful white neck and bit into it.

He did not know if she'd heard all that, but in the next moment she threw her head back, her hair whipping over him as she howled, a fountain of her juices exploding and coating his cock. Garon came as well, and he angled his cock so it would shoot between her thighs. As drops of her love fluids fell on his erection, his member twitched and retaliated, shooting wads of his white hot seed onto her slit. Even he fell victim to the burst of pleasure from his orgasm, and he could do nothing but slump against her body while he came.

He'd done it. He'd done what others would have thought unthinkable. True, he had held back from claiming her, but this act was just as worse. The mix of their cum dripping down her thighs was proof enough of that. He wondered if she would start to hate him now. He snorted-she was well within her rights, but he would remind her that _he_ was her master. Rebellion would be something to watch for, from now on.

Then as he was thinking that, Garon felt a swooping sensation, as if he'd been tripped and were falling. A moment later, his back landed on the soft surface of her bed. He blinked in surprise, gazing about wildly before his eyes fell on Corrin. For a moment, he was taken aback. This was not the Corrin he'd just taken advantage of, nor was this the Corrin who was his most able right hand at court. She was smiling as she loomed over him, her eyes glinting with a hint of something unhinged. In fact, he could even call it madness.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his danger instincts flaring. Was this an assassination? Could his fears have actually become true?

"Oh, my lord, I have waited long for you to act. Too long. Now, you have seen fit to reward me-oh, my heart is aflutter!" Her lilting voice was as if she were speaking of sunshine and butterflies.

"Speak sense!" he snapped. He watched her undo the last of her garments, and she stood before him in all her nude glory. She clasped her hands, as if she were praying.

"For too long have I waited in silence, suffering under the weight of your gaze, yet finding myself disappointed each day that those were not the eyes of desire. I suppose you call this humble desire of mine a crush."

"I had not noticed."

"I try to keep it professional, my lord. You have taught me well."

He snorted. "So you _are_ a whore underneath all that."

She hesitated. "Why yes, I have no qualms in Your Majesty calling me that. I _am_ a simple whore. After all, not too long ago, I entertained the affections of your son, the Crown Prince, and like a slut I allowed him to claimed my virginity, though we were not yet wed."

"Xander did?" he all but shouted. His fists clenched. _How dare that insolent boy...!_ Corrin was _his_ , and no one else's!

"Do not blame him, my lord. He is young, and understands little of the roles he is expected to shoulder, as King. In fact, it may yet be a long while before he is ready. But now it is not about him. It is about you, my lord. You and I." She clambered up onto the bed, and straddled his waist with her legs. She began to pump his wilting cock, her every motion bringing it back to life. "I am but a fool, a maiden lost to what she thought was unrequited love. I prayed to the Dragon, prayed that even for a night you would gaze upon me not as your servant, but as a woman, as a lover, even as your slave."

"You..." his eyes narrowed. "Love me?"

"Deeply and truly," Corrin declared, her cheeks flushing, her grip on his length tightening.

He sneered. "Know your place. Love has no meaning in my court." She shuttered her eyes, her shoulders drooping. "But, we shall allow it. Prove to us that this 'love' of yours has any meaning." She raised her head, her eyes gleaming. "And mayhap you may even rise above those other whores. The whore of whores. That would be a good name for you, don't you think?"

In response, she let go of his cock, raised her hips then sank down on it, impaling her entrance directly onto his member. The two of them groaned-for different reasons. She was surprised by the sudden intrusion of his long, thick length, and he was surprised by the sheer tightness of her insides. As the seconds passed, he speared through her moist, narrow tunnel, advancing through her folds inch by inch. Garon growled inside his throat, feeling his cock fit inside her snugly like a riding glove. The sensation was utterly heavenly, certainly far greater than any of his other mistresses with their loose holes and minds too ambitious for their stations. Here was a pussy that seemed personally crafted for him alone, that fit him perfectly. The only downside was the absence of the distinct feeling of claiming her maidenhead, an honor stolen from him by his own son. He would have to plan a fitting punishment for the boy, as soon as he was done with her.

When he had gone inside all the way, her pussy entrance kissing the base of his cock and his glans knocking on the entrance to her womb, the both of them could not help but utter a long, pronounced sigh. For himself, it was like sheathing his member fully into a hole much more divine than any heaven man could devise. Adding to the thrill was the fact that it belonged to such a lovely specimen of creature willingly taking him into her.

Corrin grinned widely, stretching all her limbs out and putting her whole, glistening body on display. "Behold, my King, my body is at your full disposal. Allow this whore to serve you fully, that my gratitude for your kindness shall be paid in full."

He laughed. No whore had ever been so brazen; after loudly expressing their desires up front they left the rest of the act to him, afraid of incurring his displeasure. Here was a woman who pursued her own pleasure by giving _him_ pleasure; he freely admitted that this experience was novel, if nothing else. "We are amused by your words, Corrin. Now it remains to fulfill your boast."

And after he said that, something shifted in the girl's expression, as she intentionally tightened around him, and as her grip held firm, she raised her hips from his waist, drawing out her tightness all through his length until his glans was barely at the cusp of her entrance; before she drew down, slamming his whole entirety into her in less than a second. The sudden influx of sensations made him grunt appreciatively, even as she began pumping him in and out without pausing, her insides milking him with every wanton bob of her hips.

In this way, the spirited rhythm of her lovemaking steadily intensified into a frantic, sloppy mess. Garon gritted his teeth as the girl he'd kidnapped so long ago bounced atop him like a brothel slut; her silky smooth skin rippling every time their hips made contact, her ample breasts hanging free and lolling about like fruits caught in a breeze. His nethers were as a hot furnace, and he could swear his member was in danger of melting off from the sheer heat they both shared.

"Yes! Mmmpphhh... That's the spot...! My lord, you're so..!"

And her _mouth_ -spouting words utterly inappropriate for a woman of her stature, sounding like they belonged to alley prostitutes doing anything to fool a man's ego: this was a complete and utter perversion of the stern, efficient image she'd built up over the years. It reinforced the illusion-or was it the reality?-of her becoming his whore and his alone, giving herself utterly to him behind closed doors.

Garon was caught off-guard when her upper body suddenly slumped, and landed on top of his own. Her magnificent breasts were squashed to his chest, giving off a wonderful, soothing feeling, particularly as his thrusts continued and her nipples repeatedly swept over his chest. He then wrapped his arms around her back, running his palms over the tracks of sweat littering her body. The slender contours and curves of her back lent much to the imagination, and he explored them in their entirety, marveling at the natural beauty that was close to perfection.

Thus, in holding her in his arms, a switch seemed to have fallen in his mind. There were no illusions now: his servant was his, now and forever. His cock eagerly rose to the challenge, his every thrust into her narrow folds a pointed declaration of his claim to the girl's body, forever marking her and twisting the insides of her pussy into the shape of his own cock. The girl's cries became more heated, more passionate; with every solid thrust her fingers gripped his shoulders tighter, and her rapid, desperate breaths on his neck was as a breeze from the highest heavens. His other hand gripped a fistful of her long hair, smearing it all over her sweat-ridden back as a painter would his canvas. They melted together on the bed, two sweat-ridden bodies driven to their respective peaks, glorying in the other's body. For Garon's part, the feeling was quite new: no other woman had made him want to completely own their bodies as Corrin now did; she was not a fuck he could do one night and then merely discard the morning after. She was something... more.

Her bared his teeth, his hands finding her thighs and pinning them to the bed as he pumped upward desperately, his second climax exploding in a fount of white cum spraying deep into her womb, staining it in his own colors. Belatedly he forgot that he'd neglected to put on the charms to prevent pregnancy: many were the oats he'd sown, but he'd be damned if he'd make a bastard from those other whores. In this case, though... his hands gripped her thighs tighter, nails biting into her and leaving a strong mark on her skin as he ensured every last drop of his seed was buried deep into her womb, possibly granting her his child. Corrin sighed, rubbing her navel with an expression of contentment he'd only seen in mothers, all while his warmth bloomed inside her.

"Are you hoping for a bastard?" he asked gruffly, his every breath stirring her long, damp hair.

"If it is your will, my lord," she said breathlessly, wiggling her hips around him and giving him a pointed squeeze with her insides. "But of course... if you prefer not to... then there are ways... I would not want... to dishonor my role... by your side..."

He snorted. "Whichever the case, you have indeed pleased us." Claiming her body had been every bit glorious as in his fantasies. Oh, all the things he could do with her body! She would be as a toy, dancing for his amusement. He would wring every wanton sigh, every pleasured gasp from her as much as he could.

He stirred. The thought of it all made his cock harden within her once more. Corrin seemed to have noticed, her eyes glittering with amusement.

"Corrin," he said. "We..."

"Say no more, my lord," she said. "I am yours."

Emboldened by her words, he flipped her over to his side. From there he took her from behind, ramming into her with reckless abandon as she muffled her cries of pleasure into her pillow. Their mutual essence began to sink into the sheets, staining it with their smell. Unlike before, he took his time fucking her-with a clearer head he was able to verbally debase her, calling her all sorts of depraved titles as he gripped her bubble butt and pounded away mercilessly.

"You feckless whore! You'd spread your legs open for any man!?"

"Yes! Urgh! Yes, I am a whore...! But I am yours... my lord! Yours..! Grkh! Yours alone...!"

"Worthless lies! You deserve every bit of punishment!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

When next he came he leaned over her back, planting his teeth on as much of her skin as he could. He would mark her not once, nor even twice, but as much as he could, however he could. Her back arched, displaying herself boldly against him and inflaming his lust even more, with his cock hardening yet again for a fourth try-even a fifth.

They burned like twin fires through the night, their hips glued together without ever once separating. He took her through every position he knew, paving a lewd tour through her room: on the bed he took her on her side, his mouth exploring the side of her neck, her armpit and her breasts as she guided him to his next orgasm, then he braced her against the vanity, taunting her with the debased image reflected on the other side of the mirror, the proof of his defilement at his hands; then he pinned her body to the floor with his, locking her into a rutting mess as his hips frantically pumped fresh seed into her womb. Then, feeling winded, he sat on the side of the bed, allowing her to pleasure them both at the same time as she sat on his lap with his back to him and bucked him harder than any horse.

The harlot proved herself as insatiable and tireless as him. His lovers found his stamina enduring and his appetites rapacious, and yet Corrin showed herself rising to the task, baiting him with her teasing smile when he let exhaustion get to him, while reacting appropriately as a tamed bitch if he decided to show his dominance. Their copulation was so long and frantic that his cock felt sore when morning came, and even then it was still stiff and raring to go, ready to plow into her thoroughly ravaged depths.

Finally, when the dawn came, and they spooned on the floor, his royal cloak laid out lazily around their bodies, he chanced to view his lover under the light of the fading candles. And in that moment he felt vindicated for taking the child in so long ago. But now he was racked with another concern: a different question that made him recoil deep inside. _Would things go on as they have? Or...?_ And yet he considered it seriously, as if it were a manner of war.

 _In another time she would grow to become his eternal adversary, no matter which road she chose._

 _Here she would go on to become his wife, the Queen of Nohr._

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